Harry Potter and Merlin's Prophecy
by eyeimaged
Summary: In this story Voldemort is dead and harry has dissappeared from the wizarding world.


Author note: Please review and tell me what you think about the story, and what I can do to improve on it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related items you may recognize that goes for anything in this chapter. I only own the plot.

Harry Potter and Merlin's Prophecy

Chapter 1

Alone in his study, it was just another quiet afternoon for Jacob Moore. He sat at his hand crafted oak desk, staring down at a blank piece of white paper clamped tightly in between the mechanical jaws of a type writer. He had been cooped up like this in his study for what seemed an eternity, desperately trying to write the last chapter of his novel _Broomsticks and Caldrons, _but no matter how hard he tried his mind remained as blank as the piece of paper in front of him. He looked up at the grandfather clock, which stood to the left of him against the wall, to check the time. The clock had been a parting gift from his horrible relatives the Dursleys. They had taking him in when he was just a baby. After his mother and father had been gruesomely murdered by a crazed manic or so they had told him. Why he hadn't died along with his parents was a mystery to all, but he very much wished he had. It would have been preferable to the abuse he had to put up with day in and day out living with the Dursleys. They had hated being saddled with the responsibility of taken care of him, after his parents had passed on, and they had made sure to let him know every chance they got, which was the reason he couldn't understand why they had giving him the clock. Maybe it had belonged to his deceased parents, and wanting to be rid of it, they had giving it to him or maybe it had been there way of apologizing for all the nasty things they had did to him. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter now. They weren't apart of his life any longer nor was he apart of there's, which was a relief.

Ding…Dong…Ding...Dong…Ding…Dong…The grandfather clock struck three and Jacob's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. His publisher, Hugh Donaldson, was expecting the last chapter of his book at four and here he was with not a single word of it typed. If he didn't have it done on time like he had promised, Hugh was sure to be mad. The man hated tardiness and had a fierce temper. "What am I to do?" Jacob thought, already beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. "Don't be afraid. You can do this," he told himself. Then he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he began to type. His hands moved over the keys with the skill of a well trained surgeon and before he knew it he was on a roll. The papers began to stack up and he thought he might just finish before four. Then his door bell rang. He tried to continue on with his work as if he hadn't heard it, but it rang again and again. Finally, he stopped his feverish typing.

"Who could it be?" he said to no one in particular, "Probably a sales man."

At that moment, Jacob got up and headed out the study towards his front door. As he moved through the house he wondered who it could be. His friends Louie and Diana Biggles where out of town, and he wasn't expecting his long time girlfriend, Ashley Fairchild, to show up until six o'clock. He and Ashley were going to go out, and celebrate his book. "Well, if I ever get it done," he thought, entering his living room. Suddenly, He halted in his tracks. His front door was open and a handsome young man who looked to be in his twenty's with short blond hair and striking features stood in it.

"Who are you?" Jacob screamed, "And what are you doing in my house."

"Technically I'm not in your house Potter," The stranger said with a grin and stepped inside.

"Well now you are so get out," Jacob said in his most authoritative voice, but the fellow only smiled more.

"I'll call the cops," Jacob cried.

"Go a head and try," the fellow said.

On hearing that Jacob sprung into action and headed for the nearest telephone, which was in his living room on a small coffee table not two feet from him. After getting to the phone, he picked it up and began dialing the cops. Then suddenly without warning the phone leaped out of his hands and into the air. He stared at it in astonishment as it floated out of the living room toward the stranger, who was now holding up, what appeared to Jacob to be, a short brown rod.

"Who are you?" Jacob asked again.

"My name is Draco Malfoy," the stranger said, plucking the telephone out the air. "And yours is Harry Potter."

"No it isn't," Jacob quickly said. "My name is Jacob Moore."

"Uhm…The Wizards council must have erased your memory," Malfoy said. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

"The Wizards Council," Jacob said. "What Wizards Council?"

"Crabbe…Goyle," Malfoy said ignoring Jacobs question.

"What Wizards Council," Jacob asked again. Then suddenly, two big and ugly looking chaps appeared out of nowhere on both sides of Jacob and took hold of him. At first, Jacob so flabbergasted by the whole event didn't do anything. He just looked from one man to the other trying to figure out how they had got there. Next, like a fly just realizing it's been caught in a spider's web, he began kicking and screaming in their grasp. However, His struggle was futile. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't escape them. His screams for help seemed equally ineffective. "Can't anyone hear me," He thought. That's when it hit him, he couldn't hear himself. The one called Malfoy had waved his rod in front of him and did something to his voice, like he had done to the telephone, Jacob realized with a sudden fright and past out.

"What did you two do to him," Malfoy said, looking from Vincent Crabbe to Gregory Goyle then back. The two didn't say anything, just shook their heads, and shrugged while trying to keep the unconscious Jacob standing up right. Malfoy watched his two imbecilic friends fumble around with the package for a moment. Then unexpectedly he started laughing.

"Do you mean to tell me the great Harry Potter just past out," Malfoy howled.

"Well…," Crabbe started to say, but Goyle cut him off before he could finish.

"He doesn't really look anything like the Harry Potter I remember."

Malfoy abruptly stopped his laughing and went over to where his two friends were standing to take a closer look at Jacob. He had to agree with Goyle, the guy didn't look anything like Potter. For one thing his brown hair set nicely and neatly on his head, slightly curled at the ends. Potter's hair had always been a tangled mess of weeds. Another thing was his face which looked like it had been chiseled out of marble and his incredibly strong looking jaw line. Potter's face as he remembered had been bony and his jaw line not very distinguished, but he had been a teenager back then. Like Malfoy himself, he had grown up. "Still there was only one way to be sure," Malfoy thought. Then took his left hand and lifted Jacob's hair off his forehead. Underneath, Malfoy quickly found what he was looking for which was a lightening bolt shaped scar.

"It's him," Malfoy said. "Now let's get out of here."

With those final words the four vanished into nothingness. A few hours later, Ashley Fairchild came walking up Jacob's walkway, dressed in a dazzling black dress and sexy pumps, for their date. To her surprise she found Jacob's door to his house wide open and suspecting foul play, she went in to search for him. The first place she went to look was his study, but all she found there was his unfinished manuscript which only helped to intensify her suspicions. Next, she went to his bedroom thinking maybe he was still in the process of getting ready for there date and had left the front door open for her to come in, but she didn't find him there either. At that moment she started to panic. Thoughts of Jacob somewhere hurt or dead started flashing before her very eyes, threatening to overwhelm her emotionally. Still she refused to believe the worse and continued on with her search, going from one room to the next in hopes of finding him. Until she ran out of places to look and had to admit maybe something had happen to her beloved. It was then; she called the cops in a fit of tears and told them that Jacob was missing. After which two officers were sent over to investigate. One, a heavy set fellow, took her statement while the other looked around the house for any clues to Jacobs's whereabouts. When they were done, they told her she should go home to get some rest and as soon as they knew something, they would let her know. Then they left.

Ashley decided to stay in Jacob's house, hoping he would come home with an excuse as to why his door had been left open, and they would have a big laugh about the whole fiasco. She waited for hours on his couch, tears streaming down her face, hugging on one of the couch's decretive pillows, afraid to leave. She was sure if she did leave, Jacob would show up and she would miss him. She wasn't the type to give up hope, but eventually she gave into exhaustion and fell a sleep on the couch. All the while she told herself that Jacob would show up soon and ever thing would go back to the way it was.

Jacob awoke to find himself in a small room, on a rather uncomfortable bed. The room's walls were a combination of stone and mortar. Its floors and door were made out of wood. The sun, the only source of light in the place came pouring in from a window near by, like molten lava, slowly devouring the shadows from the night before. Immediately, Jacob went over to the window to take a look out of it, in hopes of find out where he was being held. What he expected to see outside the window was streets and buildings, but what he saw instead was all forest as far as the eye could see. Circling Over the forest, screeching and crowing, he spotted three strange looking birds. They had the bodies of vultures and the faces of ugly old hags. They were harpies and all the noise they were making was actually them having a conversation, he suddenly realized with amazement. He listened closely to try to decipher what they were saying to one another. At first he couldn't understand a word of what they were shrieking, but as he continued to listen it began to become clearer.

"Have you heard," the largest of the, three, bird like creatures said in a cackled voice. "Harry Potter is back."

"Harry Potter you say," another said.

"Yes."

"But I thought he disappeared years ago."

"Yes…yes…yes…but now he's back."

"So."

"So he's going to set things right."

"Well, I rather like things the way they are thank you."

"Me too," the other added in. Then they all laughed in unison.


End file.
